He looked at the door, it was a heavy oak one. He opened it and stepped in. As he took another step the doors groaned shut behind him, a thud echoing around him. The entity stood at the edge of the void, its presence felt like an anchor to Nicholai. “In here you will face your truest self, remember. Only by embracing your flaws and accepting that they are part of you can you move onto the next trial.”

Nicholai tightened his grip on his resolve, his jaw setting firmly. “I understand”, he replied. As the words left his lips a light shone. He could see what looked like an old fashioned home. In the middle stood a long table. It was bathed in the flickering, it was of a ghostly candlelight. Not as bright as it usually is, like the memory was not his.

He looked around, he saw his father, the stern one of the family at the head of the table. Next to his father was his mother, the softer of the two parents. Opposite her on his fathers other side was a boy, looked about age three. After him was a whole row of children going up in ages. The ones he had outpaced or abandoned. They had mirrors where their faces should be.

As he approached his father, he did not speak of legacy or honour, instead he spoke with Nicholais own inner voice. It was articulating the crushing fear of inadequacy that Nicholai had buried under a lifetime of overachievement. The truth Nicholai had hid even from himself began to bleed into the room. His desperation for approval that he always rebranded as ambition, to make sure he succeeded in every part of his life.

His ancestors stood in the shadows behind the chairs, their judgemental gazes forcing him to confront the lie he had told most often, that he was independent and untouched by their failures. He walked away from his father shaking his head. “You must confront it properly Nicholai, or you will be stuck here in this room forever.”

He walked back up to the mirror where his fathers face should be. He saw a younger version of himself trying to get his fathers approval. He had spent a lifetime chasing through accolades and steel. His father spoke again but this time it was a spectral voice, “you call it ambition,” the spectre hissed, “but it is only the fear of being small and unseen.” Nicholai looked at the ghost and saw the truth he had buried. He didn’t want to achieve, he was simply terrified of being invisible.

He felt the phantom weight of every trophy and title he had ever won, realizing they were just stones he used to fill an empty hole in his chest. Nicholai took a ragged breath. “I am not a leader, “ he whispered, the words burning his throat. “I am a boy who is afraid of being forgotten.” As he admitted his insecurity the ghost of his father faded into a soft, golden light, the crushing pressure in his chest eased into a strange, light hum.

Next was his friends, the ones he left behind. The closest ones from his youth. Their faces blurred in the mirrors as if they were being seen through water. “They represent the efficiency you pride yourself on, the way you cut people out of your life the moment they became obstacles in your mind.” The entity explained. Nicholai has told himself he was just being pragmatic, but the trial forced him to see the jagged edge of his cruelty. He saw the faces of those he had discarded, realising he hadn't left them behind to grow, he pushed them down to climb higher.

The shame was a physical heat, a fever that made him want to turn away. He didn’t. He looked at the empty chairs. “I used people to feel powerful because I felt powerless.” With the admission of his callousness the room seemed to brighten, the shadows retreating from the corners.

The last part of the trial was the most difficult. In the middle of the table lay a shattered mirror. He looked at it but just as he was focused on what was there he heard “Look where your father once was, Nicholai.” He turned around and in the chair was a version of himself wearing a mask of perfect, unshakable stoicism. This was the lie he had told most often, the lie that he was fine, that he was untouched by pain. The entity watched as Nicholai reached out and shattered the mask of his own reflection. Behind it was a wellspring of grief and fragility he had suppressed since he was a child.

He realised he had spent decades pretending to be a mountain when he was actually a glass house. “I am breakable, I am flawed and I am hurting. I have been lying to myself about brewing strong.”

He went back to the mirror on the table. It was no longer shattered and all he saw was himself, exactly as he was. Broken, hurt and crying. He turned around to the door. “I am ready to come out now”. As those words left his lips a profound sense of relief washed over him, more intoxicating than any victory he had ever known. The heavy iron bands that had seemingly lived around his heart for a lifetime snapped and fell away.

The room didn’t vanish in a flash of light, but rather softened, the ghosts becoming warm memories instead of haunting shadows. He stood in the centre of the room, his shoulders down, his breathing deep and easy. He was no longer the man he pretended to be, he was the real version of himself. Flawed, scarred and finally undeniably real.

The entity stepped forward, its starlight glowing brighter. “The truth has set the foundation , the trial of reflection is complete. You are light enough to now walk back through the door and leave this place.” Nicholai nodded, a genuine, tied smile touching his lips. He felt stripped bare, but for the first time he wasn’t cold. He was ready.

He walked towards the door, when he came in it was a big heavy oak door but now it was like a normal house door, lighter and easier to open. Nicholai took a deep breath and opened the door. As it got wider all he saw was a bright white light. He stepped into it and all his ancestors were there. “Well done Nicholai, the first of us to complete this first trial. We believe you can do them all.” they vanished and he ended up being stood back in the void, where he was before the trial.